BROKEN HEART

MY heart dropped and shattered to the ground as my virtue was stripped from my womb. The tears rolling down my cheeks for this now broken heart of mine, it was just too

much at 8 to consume. The blood started to run down my thighs between my parted legs, my eyes opened wider looking down at my flower with horror. How could a father be such a fabricator? I got up and went running to the bathroom, to shower, with my fears in my throat. At my age all I wanted was someone to hold me tight and tell me all will soon be alright, but for now my heart is crying bittersweet tears. Now clean and sore and red to the touch, I wrapped a towel around me, went to ask for some clothes, because mine was bloody. He said I don’t have any you will have to wear them, so he took me back home looking like a corpse. Mother was at work, she would never know that I went missing during the night. He said I had better not tell or no one will even see the light.